“Wilderness to the people of America is a spiritual necessity, an antidote to the high pressure of modern life, a means of regaining serenity and equilibrium.” Sigurd F. Olsen
On August 20th, 2021, I left Oxford for a drive through Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and Wisconsin enroute to Danbury, Wisconsin. This small town on the western border of Wisconsin was our rendezvous point for an 8-day paddle down the Namekagon and St. Croix Rivers.
I headed north, crossing the 5-mile-long Mackinac Bridge into the Upper Peninsula before turning west for Ironwood on the border with Wisconsin. There I settled for the night in the town of Hurley. A couple of hours on the road the following morning put me in the town of Danbury. My friends Mark and Phyllis, along with Phyllis’s brother Roger met me at the highway 77 bridge where it crossed the St. Croix River. We have agreed to spot my vehicle there, for an early takeout, should we need it. They had already parked a car downstream at Norway Point, the planned take out for the trip.
We drove back east to the town of Hayward to launch our canoes for the 87-mile paddle down the Namekagon and St. Croix Rivers. The former flows northwest for 66 miles where it joins with the St. Croix. These two rivers have been designated by the U.S. Department of Interior as the St. Croix National Scenic Riverway, administered by the National Park Service.
Our plan was to paddle the 66 miles down the Namekagon, with the exception of a 6-mile shuttle around Trego Lake, to its confluence with the St. Croix River. There we would paddle southwest to the Norway Point Landing, another 31.5 miles. Along the way, we would camp at Park Service maintained sites along the river. Each site had clearings for tents, a fire ring, pit toilet, and sometimes a picnic table (at group sites).
River Maps: https://www.nps.gov/sacn/planyourvisit/maps.htm
From Hayward, the narrow river alternates between fast rocky riffles and meandering sand bottomed uplands. As you progress down the river, there is less, and less evidence of development and a more natural environment takes over. In some sections, however, you can still here highway noise in the distance. Songbirds are in abundance and along the bolder and rock filled sections, Bald Eagles are commonly seen.
With the morning’s long shuttle, we did not get started until after 2 p.m., making it down the first 6.4 miles of river, before setting up for our first night of camping. Tents are set up, along with a Nemo screenhouse to keep the bugs and rain away when we cook. Canoes are stowed for the night, and food bags hung from a tree limb, to keep the bears at bay.
On Sunday we covered, we covered 11.4 miles. At the end of the days paddle, a quick swim cooled us off. It was surprising to find the water so cool this late in August. Monday was spent dodging rocks as we moved quickly through fast bends and several small rapids. We added another 9.5 miles, staging us for our shuttle Tuesday morning where we would avoid the sluggish and motor boat filled Trego Lake.
We broke camp quickly on Monday morning but did not beat the approaching thunderstorm. So, we waited in the Nemo, until it stopped and then paddled the short 1.5 miles to the outfitter. We loaded up a canoe trailer and van with our gear, refilled water jugs, and road around the lake to the County K Landing a little below the lake, at mile 31.2. Here Mark had cached extra beer. We filled the coolers and paddled another 11.4 miles by late afternoon.
Tuesday evening an owl wished us good night, and then Wednesday, we covered 11.5 miles. This placed us within reach of the St. Croix for part of our Thursday travel. The weather for this and the next 2 days called for rain and possible thunder showers. We decided to final 11.4 miles to Thayer Landing on Friday if we could get a break in the rain and take out at the alternate early shuttle. This would avoid a possible Saturday of waiting out thunder showers. Fortunately, our Friday showers broke in the morning, leaving us with a few sprinkles and a welcome light tail wind. As the St. Croix is a wider, shallow river, that heads in a south-westerly direction, it is often paddled as a fight against head winds.
Roger and her brother waited at the takeout, while Mark and I drove the 90-minute round trip route back to Hayward Landing to fetch the canoe trailer and Mark’s truck. Back at the takeout, we loaded up and ran into Danbury for dinner at the American Legion Bar and Grill.
Paddling for 70+ miles down a river, is not for everybody. Nor is remote camping most people’s idea of a fun way to spend 6 nights. Once acclimated to the quiet hours of continuous paddling and the morning break down and afternoon set up at each campsite, you get accustomed to the lack of human noise. You take notice of the bird life along the river. We saw many Cedar Waxwings, strafing back and forth across the river for their “in flight” insect meals. Bald Eagles stare down at you from lofty perches in the pine trees. You hear the “spear” warning of Osprey’s taking off down river. Whip-poor-wills call after sundown. As you quietly float down the river, you hear the plop, as turtles drop off the logs upon which the sun themselves. At one point, 3 river otters played hide and seek in the weeds along the bank. All these things melt away the stress of everyday life.
This may very possibly have been the last of many long canoe trips. I will most likely be selling my canoes and gear in the coming months, as I prepare for a life in the mountains of the west. We talked about a future trip on the Allagash River in Maine, but there will always be that “next trip”, the one you never take. Many times, in my life, there have been those things I really enjoyed. I could never imagine myself not doing them. canoeing, fishing, owning and trail riding horses, pheasant hunting, bicycle touring. Then you look back to discover they did end. You didn’t realize it when the last experience was occurring. The horses and farm were sold. My English Setter hunting dog, Clyde, died, and all but one bicycle was recently sold. Perhaps it is my age or maybe looking forward to retirement, but this canoe trip just did not seem as enjoyable as those before. I found myself more liking the friendship and conversation with those with which I paddled, than the paddling and camping itself. I thought about the trip to the Boundary Waters in 2007 with Tyler and day trips on the Sugar River with Tim. There were many floats on the Flambeau River with Gail, where we ran the rapids in the mid-80s. I guess it really has always been the people I was with that made the trip. Probably my best canoe partner is gone. My father.
Keep your paddle ready for a brace, because…
“Being soaked alone is cold. Being soaked with your best friend is an adventure.”
Emily Wing Smith
Next up, wandering Colorado in September.
Starting All Over 